


Curtana

by Semi_Formal_Insanity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, F/M, Healing, Loss, Love Triangles, Possibly Unrequited Love, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-06 00:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20497970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Formal_Insanity/pseuds/Semi_Formal_Insanity
Summary: And she is merciful, but her edges are still jagged.





	Curtana

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsRen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/gifts).

> A/N: Welcome to this short story. While it starts out as Draco/Astoria in the first chapter, this fic deals with Draco's life after the loss of his wife. There will be mentions of other canon ships, and one ship will go hand and hand (without actually delving into it) with Draco and Hermione's relationship. I hope you stick around. :) My heartfelt thanks to TheOtterAndTheDragon for looking over my stuff!

_ **September 1st, three years before the Fall** _

* * *

** **

_Dear Draco,_

_I thought going to a quidditch camp for the summer would be fun, but it’s been anything but. There’s a girl in the camp with three older brothers who love playing pranks on everyone. Some of the kids find it funny, but I think they’re nothing but rotten bullies! Plus, the girl keeps taking my sweets when she thinks I’m not looking. She already looks like an overripe plum! She doesn’t need my sweets! _

* * *

_Dear Draco, _

_I was tasked with polishing the broomsticks before the matches yesterday night. Those annoying boys swapped the wax with something else, and everyone slid off their broomsticks as they tried taking off. One of the kids fell and hurt her arm. Mrs. Wicket's niece had to be escorted off the pitch, and I got blamed for it. Mrs. Wicket should’ve known that I would never do anything to hurt anyone! I confronted the girl and she said that it’s not her fault that the quidditch instructors are too stupid to realize stuff. Those kids aren’t even sorry for what they did. _

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I drew that mean family for you. That way you can avoid them if you ever come across them. I hope all their red hair falls off and they go completely bald. I hope their eyebrows fall out, too! I think Madam Hooch said they are Wheezeleys._

* * *

“Did I really write those?” Her eyes twinkled with humor as she peeked over his shoulder, “I had forgotten all about that wretched camp.”

Draco pulled the wrinkled papers closer to his chest and smiled at her. “The mind has ways of blocking out traumatic events.” 

“_Traumatic_, he says. As if I suffered from a horrible fate and not a spot of bullying by a gang of uncivilized children.” Her eyes rolled back in a dramatic fashion, but the smile still lingered on her rosy lips as she settled beside him on the table. “Why did you keep them?”

“The letters?” 

“Actually, no. I was clearly talking about the tea and not the letters we were discussing less than two seconds ago.” She brought her cup to her lips and took a sip, nearly sputtering over the table as his lips thinned in annoyance. “Yes, the letters! Honestly, Draco, where _ is _your head today?” 

He smiled at the girl seated next to him and shrugged. 

Draco couldn’t stop staring at Astoria Greengrass. The need to reach out and brush the wild strand of hair that always slipped past the braids she was so fond of wearing during summer had him gripping the parchment tighter. Her hair, as golden as wheat and as lustrous as the family ring on her finger, had haunted his dreams since he was thirteen. Her skin was pretty, too. Unblemished by any marks, and just a touch rosy at the cheeks. And her eyes...Draco saw those cornflower blue irises twinkling whenever his busy mind wandered.

When she smiled at him, Draco felt something tug deep and hard at his chest. He had never experienced anything like it before. When he had been young and ignorant, he had believed the strange feeling to be one of discomfort. Astoria was Daphne’s younger sister, after all. His parents had been set on surrounding him with suitable candidates from a young age, and both Daphne and Pansy has been a constant presence at Malfoy manor. This often meant that little Astoria had tagged along, trailing behind the olderr kids as they were trained before properly enterent Wizarding society. While Draco’s interest had never been piqued by Daphne or Pansy, he had grown fond of Astoria.

The youngest Greengrass was outspoken and just a touch odd. She loved sneaking all sorts of animals into her parent’s mansion, and had a habit of nurturing creatures back to health so she could later release them into the wild. Theo and Blaise had often joked about her eventually replacing the giant oaf at Hogwarts as their care of magical creatures teacher, but Draco actually found her actions sort of… charming, really. The girls in his age group just cared about superficial things like clothes and status, but Astoria had a love for people and creatures that had left him in awe. When his world had come crashing down and his friends had distanced themselves from him in order to survive the Ministry’s man hunts after the war, Astoria had staunchly stood by his side. 

It was only then that Draco had realized the odd stirrings in his chest had not been feelings of discomfort for a girl who wrote him letters during their time apart even when he had never asked her to, or embarrassment because his friends didn’t agree with how and who she was as a person. It had taken him nearly a decade to realize, but what he had felt back then had been the first stirrings of love. 

“Um… do I have something on my face?” Astoria ignored the napkins that had been set beside their saucers and dabbed at her lips with her fingers. 

“Was I staring?” When she nodded, he shook his head and chuckled. “I was just thinking, sorry.”

“About?”

“You, mostly.” The ease with which the words fell off his tongue surprised him. A lovely flush left her cheeks stained crimson as she averted her gaze and turned her attention to the sugar rolls they had ordered. “Have your parents mentioned any names in their search for suitors?”

Astoria shrugged feebly. “They’re more concerned with Daphne. She’s the family rose. Theo and Blaise politely declined our parent’s attempts at setting them up with her. Blaise refuses to be tied down and Theo insists that his future as a Hogwarts professor would make him unable to be a proper husband to her.” 

“Daphne hasn’t told them that she and Pansy-”

Astoria cut him off with a shake of her golden head, “They would never accept it. The Parkison family will be furious. They all think it’s _ vulgar _that some men and women only do things with people of their own sex. Daphne will eventually confess, but she’s not ready yet. She and Pansy have their little nest in Italy, and I don’t think they’ll be coming back anytime soon.”

“Does it bother you?” The question was soft, free of any accusation or the indignation that often followed such confessions in the upper echelons of their society. “There’s a lot of negativity about this sort of thing. As far as most Pureblood families are concerned, their only duty in life is to keep their bloodlines pure and pass them on. If Daphne doesn’t produce children of her own-” 

“I’ll do it.” Her slight shoulders dropped, the poker-straight posture that their nannies forced them to retain at all times collapsing under the reality she currently faced. “As long as Daphne is happy, I’m happy. I’m not very good at-” She gestured feebly at herself, as if she was pointing out some flaw that was obvious for the world to see, “But I might just be able to save the family name. Maybe my husband will be kind, and marriage won’t be too bad. Maybe he won’t find me as off-putting as most boys do.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” A pang of regret coiled in his stomach. Her winsome smile had faded the moment he had mentioned marriage, like he had forcefully dragged her out of a pleasant dream and into the nightmare she had successfully avoided until then. “I was just wondering how you were doing.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” She waved away the apology and rose from her slouch with a practiced smile. “How’s your witch hunt?” 

“Witch hunt? That sounds like I’m trolling the streets for prey, Astoria.” 

Her grin was unrepentant. “I said what I said, _ Malfoy _. Don’t pretend you don’t look like a wolf when you are out and about.”

“A wolf?”

“Well, maybe not a wolf. A large cat, maybe. A panther, perhaps. No… no. Panthers are too dark.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a second, “Oh! How about a snow leopard? They are rare, but oh so beautiful.” 

Draco arched a brow in her direction, pretending not to notice the color on her face was indistinguishable from that of a ripe tomato. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Well, yes, but…” she hesitated for a heartbeat, fingers working furiously through the napkin she had earlier neglected, “you’re also dangerous. I know you would never hurt me, Draco. But… I’m also so very afraid of you.” 

His insides turned to ice. 

The faded tattoo on his forearm suddenly prickled, as if awakened by her words. Nonsense, he knew. Voldemort was dead, and the magic that bound Draco to him had been severed. Still, the painful thudding in his chest made him pitifully aware of the mark he hid beneath long sleeves and suits. “Because of what I’ve done?” 

“Because I’m in love with you.” 


End file.
